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Some days it's hard, going down there, but somebody has got to do it. The exclusive food and supplies that can only be found at the forest floor is not going to fly up in the trees all by themselves. The berries might not fight back, but there are plenty of other dangers.

You don't get to have bad days on the ground. Bad days or even a single lapse of judgement is what gets gatherers killed. Even with the second set of eyes of a companion, or even a fellow gatherer there to back you up, you might get surprised. And you don't want company down there, you really don't.

There's no big surprise then, that Arbutus is not overjoyed when he sees a flash of black and white somewhere to the far left.

Specific details: Arbutus is on the ground, gathering, and Sequoia is in the same area but at a more decent altitude for Sentinels. Sequoia can't see Arbutus, but since Sentinels have very good hearing he can hear that something is moving around and can also hear any conversation above a whisper. The creature Arbutus is spotting is a skunk, and while it's not the most dangerous thing you can meet it might spray him if it's startled. And a spray in the eyes would leave him temporarily blinded, and completely vulnerable...

As always when a Sentinel is on the ground, there is a risk of injury in this scenario. Please PM the Herald with any concerns regarding this. As usual we won't force any injuries unless a Sentinel takes an absolutely ridiculous risk.

Sequoia had been flying around to find something to eat. He had been working on a Deep Woods Bard for nearly the entirety of the day and he was beat though hungry beyond belief. Unfortunately, he also did not stock his little corner and had not saved anything worth eating. He had to remind himself not to dip into his saved berried for last minute dye material to give to the Apothecaries. Stomach rumbling, he swept through the woods in search of something slow and fat.

Listening for snapping twigs, he felt a phantom voice rise up to him. His first though was to look up in that distant hope it was the spirit of his long lost Amber. Instead, he realized it was from somewhere below, but as he glanced, he only saw shrubbery. Had his mind played tricks on him? It wouldn’t be the first time.

Curious and wondering if he stepped into a territory that he wasn’t suppose to be, he dropped down a fraction and gave a hoot in hopes someone would reply and confirm he wasn’t insane. At least not this time.

He heard muffling and not knowing what the words where saying, lowering, only to fluster in the air when he heard a shout to stay back. Flapping in the air as if hit by a strong wind, Sequoia flew up and landed on a higher branch, safe from whatever was below and also to regain his composure. He didn’t expect such a violent and direct rukus. Heart thudding, he looked down and noticed another Sentinel flying up and covering in something that glistened in the limited light.

Listening, he breathed out. “I didn’t expect it, but I’m glad you warned me. I was about to fly lower to investigate.” He eyed the other Sentinel’s cargo in his hands, which seemed to be weighing him down. “Do you……need any help?” He said, trying to be quieter as he lowered his head in his body and whispered as best he could that would still allow his words to travel. Who knew what ‘thing’ was below and if it could either jump high or climb trees. The ideas of the unknown always caused a shiver to ruffle his feathers and he felt nervous here, fluffing up.

Sequoia did not hear the last mummbled words, but with all the oozing honey, did get that the other male needed help before he turned to a gooy mess. Honey was never good for feathers. Luckily, being an Artisan, he had a more fine tuned Will, and he flew over to be on the branch above him and lowered himself down.

"Excuse me." he said, pardoning himself beforehand as he let his own Will move down and brush against the other Sentinel, gripping two cones and giving them a soft nudge to indicate he was taking them, moved them up. With some distaste, he gripped on in his beak and another in his talon, holding both oozing pieces with some dislike. He did like sweet things, but sticky was not Sequoia.

"Beffer?" He asked.

Sequoia was left confused and growing a rock of worry that was lodged in his throat (or maybe it was the honey), as he watched the nameless Sentinel ask him to go higher and took off, flying DOWNWARD!

The math of a unknown animal on the forest floor and having said stranger head that way was equally something pretty terrifying. Sequoia had sometimes hear reports of Sentinels who, either from their own bad luck, their own lack of knowledge, or even daredevil behavior, had gotten killed on the forest floor.

His eyes watched with morbid worry as the bird flew and flashing thoughts raced through his head. The one that whispered most, in a sweet, almost female voice, told him to stop it. That he would be killed. Then it would be two deaths he had not intervened to stop!

Shaken with that thought, he dropped the honeycombs and bolted down. "What are you doing? Come back up!" He called out, desperate.

The Artisan recoiled at being told to back off and he flapped hard to stall before clinging to a nearby branch. His mind was scrambling to figure out what was the 'right' thing to do and which decision would not leave him regretting years later, mourning a poor decision.

What was he suppose to do? What was he going to do? What was right? What would result in death or life? Would anything happen? What if it did?! What...what....what was he suppose to do? He didn't want him here...but..but...

Sequioa was largely puffed, but did not move, trapped in indecision.

Sequoia was left watching and watched with relief to see the other rising back to him. Still, he was now regretful of his own crippling fear previously and was left with the realization that, if he was placed in these situations, he wasn't much help. Would he always be this unreliable in the face of danger and if so, should he be around others? He wasn't helping anyone when they where in risk.

As the stranger flew up, he perked and looked around, remembering that he had been in charge of holding the honey combs. Sadly, he hadn't held on to any and had served to be even more useless. He should have just passed by.

Eartuffs down, he cowered when the other Sentinel came.

"I'm.....glad you're okay." He said, though his voice showed he was not in the slightest bit happy.

Sequoia flustered, raising his wings. “No need for apologizes, dear Sir. I t was simply worried. I did not know what intentions you had and what you were doing. I should have had a stronger faith in that you knew what you were doing with yourself and your skill on the matter.” Whatever matter that was.

Sleeking once more, he glanced to the forest floor. “I’m sorry about dropping your honey combs. Especially after I was in charge of them. Much apologizes.” He felt like a fool for having become so skittish and as a result, made the other Sentinel not only work for nothing, but see his prizes dropped by the stranger he trusted them with.